


Tipping Point

by Entwife_Incognito



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Anal Sex, Caretaking, F/M, Family Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Love, Major Character Injury, Miscarriage, Romance, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:22:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8710630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: Events converge on Jane and Lisbon that change perspectives and get them in gear. Angst related to injury, and recovery due to great comfort and care. Fluffy family scenes and decisions. References to miscarriage and a gentle backdoor lovemaking scene. Hope you enjoy it. Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.
Posted at FFnet originally on August 14, 2014. Now here, divided into chapters with refining edits to improve readability.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies ahead of time for any errors in medical symptoms or procedures. I wanted to make the story generally believable but have no need to make myself an expert on the subject. Also, Goose Island Brewery is not brewing 'Night Stalker' at this time. But, The Driskill is glorious and real.

They were running late that morning. Coffee and tea still on their lips, the tastes mingled in a luxurious but quick good-bye kiss, all squashy lips, before they rushed to separate cars. Murder was a booming business and Jane and Lisbon headed to separate crime scenes.  


They planned dinner out that night. Friday night date night. So they carried a change of clothes to leave straight from work. Lisbon chose a trim straight-line dress, a subtle muted green. Practical, matching inch-high pumps would keep her feet comfortable after a long day slogging a crime scene in boots.  


Jane wore his usual suit and island shirt, but carried a fresh pale blue dress shirt and a pair of dress shoes to change into later. Lisbon had tucked a pair of navy 'normal' socks in one, but no way was she getting him to wear shoes like that all day. Stepping out of the car to enter the scene, he looked at his old brown shoes. His good and faithful dogs, in good repair and clean. Old didn't matter. They kept his feet happy and that's what he needed.  


He texted Lisbon. _On scene. Looks hairy._  


_Hmmmm. Murdered chimpanzee? The baboon did it. Territorial._  


_Haha. How's yours?_  


_En route. Let you know when I get there. Smoochies, baby._  


Jane's brow crinkled and then he smiled a crooked smile. That woman would say almost anything to him now, even in a text. Ah, but he did like her smoochies . . . _Back at ya. And a nice smack on the rump, Cuddles._  


_Hey! No feelies at work! You'll pay._  


_Glad to. But not for virtual feelies. Bye now._  


_xxx_  


Man, it was great to be in love! He loved Teresa and she loved him back. Every time he thought of it, fortune and happiness struck through his heart like an arrow.  


"What?" said Cho as Jane walked up to the body. Jane's goofy, shit-eating grin was starting to get on his nerves. Yeah, love and all that, but how long would this go on?  


"Nothing. Just happy." He wiped the grin off his face and started looking the body over. Kimball Cho was a somber taskmaster. Cho business.  


He noted things about the body and the scene.  


Cho jotted them down and gave a few orders for agents to start investigating the ones he was most curious about. "That do it for starters?"  


"Yeah. Let me walk through the house, get a feel for what's going on. Guy live alone?"  


"Yeah. No family pictures anywhere. Not even childhood. No friends. No dog or cat as far as we can tell."  


"Sad."  


"Yeah." Cho was aware that Jane knew exactly what it felt like to be that alone. His initial irritation softened when he thought about what Jane had now. He deserved it, even with his glaring faults. And most importantly, he made Boss, er, Lisbon happy. That cinched it for Cho.  


Jane scanned the nice furniture and tasteful decorations. "Nice digs, though." Looked a little too nice and too barren. Almost like a program car. Something more here that would come to light.  


Later, giant takeout salad in hand, Jane settled at Lisbon's desk for a late lunch. Hmmmm. She hadn't called. They were fastidious about that. Each one needed that ongoing assurance of the other's well-being. It was one way they looked out for each other and themselves.  


_Forget me already?_  


Sticking the phone in his pocket, he brought some questions to Wiley and they leaned over his computer for a while, hunting and gathering. At the end of a fruitful collaboration, Jane stood and jammed his hands in his pockets, preparing to saunter into the break room for a cup of tea. Lisbon.  


Had he missed the buzz of her text? When he drew out his phone, he saw only his last, unanswered, message. Blood pressure shooting up with the onslaught of acute anxiety, he breathed through the worst of it and turned back to Wiley, launching a phone call to Lisbon. Damn! It rang four times and went to voicemail.  


"Wiley. Can you locate Lisbon? She's not answering her phone."  


"Is it still on?"  


"Yeah. It rings normally but she doesn't pick up. She never answered the text I sent about six hours ago. She wouldn't do that." Jane tried her again with the same result. "Damn!"  


"Got it."  


"Where?"  


"Mr. Jane, I don't want to tell you your business, especially with your, your . . . anyway, Agent Lisbon is on a case and wouldn't it be best if you found out about it before you went . . . dashing out there? I mean, not knowing what's going on and, and without backup?"  


"Yeah. Yeah, Wiley. Lisbon would hate that." Especially if something happened to him. His lips set in a hard line. "Who's here that knows about the case?"  


"Abbott. Fischer's in a training."  


"Thanks." Rushing to Abbott's office, he knocked as he opened the door. "Dennis! We gotta go find Lisbon!"  


Initially irritated at Jane's usual lack of boundaries, Abbott stood quickly and reached for his jacket, grabbing badge and gun. "What's going on?"  


"Lisbon's not answering her phone. Wiley says you know the details of her case. And I need backup. Something must be wrong."  


"Last time you heard from her?"  


"This morning right after I got to my crime scene."  


Abbott rumbled. "That's worrisome. She went out to the scene with three other agents first thing this morning. Let's go. Call Wiley and see if he can contact one of the others. Tell him to send the local LEOs for backup."  


Wiley sent the location after they'd pulled out of the FBI parking lot. Northeast of Georgetown, deep in the countryside. Jane kept texting and dialing Lisbon without connecting.  


"Breathe, Jane. Breathe. I shouldn't have to tell you that."  


All bets were off for Jane. He could hardly think, much less control his breathing or engage any other biofeedback technique.  


Abbott glanced at Jane and saw his struggle. He sucked in his clamped lips and clapped his consultant on the shoulder. "Okay. Okay. Fast as I can. We should be hearing from the LEOs soon."  


Except for the rolling of the tires on the pavement, the silence in the car was complete. There was no thought of turning on the radio. Jane would shatter like glass if he didn't have the silence to try to get control and think things through. His stomach went sour and he started belching. Abbott passed him a roll of antacids without comment and Jane took some, chewing one and pocketing the others. It coated his dry tongue.  


Abbott hooked a thumb. "Water in the back behind your seat."  


Jane pulled one from a six-pack and drank it halfway down before he stopped. He tried to squelch a huge belch that puffed his cheeks before he let it out as breath. "Thanks."  


"That's gotta feel better."  


Jane grunted something, nodded his head and looked out the window.  


Abbott's phone rang. "Yeah? You're sure? No one? What about-? Okay. I'll call you when I know something. Sure. You're welcome."  


He looked at the grim man in the passenger seat, ashen and staring at him. "Wiley couldn't raise anybody. The LEOs are almost to the location. They'll beat us by about ten minutes."  


His phone rang again. "FBI. Supervisory Agent Abbott."  


Jane's eyes widened. Dennis obviously was expecting an official call. Probably the locals.  


Abbott's face grayed to ash as he listened. "Thanks. We're about ten minutes out."  


"What?" Jane's voice was loud and panicked.  


"Initial assessment of the scene. An explosion. Frame house. It's gone, the rest is burning. Three agents dead. Two outside, one in the house."  


"Lisbon?" His exhale was a squeaky dry sob.  


"They haven't found her yet."  


Jane's face went hard as stone as his stomach clenched and tried to heave. He wouldn't let it. Teresa had to be alive!  


The scene was being processed when they arrived.  


"All right, fellas. Who's in charge?" A deputy pointed Abbott to the sheriff. They shook hands and Abbott informed the man the FBI was taking charge of the scene. "All right if I direct your men? The people down are my agents. This is our consultant, Patrick Jane."  


The sheriff nodded. "Be glad for you to take over, sir. We wanna do this right, and I know what it's like to want to see to your own."  


"Thank you—"  


"We found your other agent."  


"Lisbon?" Jane leaned forward and studied the man carefully. "Alive?"  


"Breathing, yes. Here she comes now. She was in back."  


Jane turned, thinking to see Lisbon walking to him. Instead he saw a gurney. Lisbon was trussed onto a backboard and other props to keep her immobile in case of back or neck injury. An oxygen mask covered mouth and nose, her small face framed by dark flowing hair. "Teresa!"  


He ran over. The EMTs prepared to load her into their nearby vehicle. "Wait! I need to talk to her! She's my-. She's my partner."  


"She's breathing, sir, but unconscious. Got a little smoke in her—"  


"Is she injured? Is it bad?"  


"She's stable, vitals are good, but it's urgent we get her to the hospital. Be sure there's not something we can't detect here." The technician carefully lifted her left arm. It was swathed in gauze, three of her fingers padded and wrapped. "Some burns. Looks like bad second-degree. He lifted the mask to show the sooty marks below her nose and Jane nodded. "We don't know about internal injuries yet. She's unconscious but we can't find any external head trauma. Maybe the impact of the explosion. Trauma unit will go over her with a fine-toothed comb."  


"Okay. Okay. Let's go." Jane made to follow the gurney into the ambulance.  


"You next of kin?"  


Jane stared at the man, realizing he had no legal rights over Lisbon at all. "She's my partner. FBI. We've been together thirteen years. She has no family around here. She's my responsibility."  


Both technicians were staring at him now. The driver made a decision. "Let him in, Riley. We gotta get going."  


Jane seated himself, put a hand lightly on Lisbon's small shoulder and said some encouraging words, mostly to let her know he was there, if she could hear him. Then he called Abbott to tell him where he was.  


"Okay. Take good care of her, Jane."  


"You know I will." He thumbed off.  


Lisbon was pale and limp. Covered with dirt, her face had mild scratches on the right cheek. There was nothing he could do but be with her and endure the ride to the hospital. It appeared that maybe she could make it that far. The technician quietly read dials and made notations. Jane hung his head over Teresa, caressing her hair and brushing her forehead with his thumb, sweeping dirt gently away with his fingertips. "You'll be all right. I'm here. I'll take care of you."


	2. Chapter 2

The hospital was a nightmare.  


"Are you the next of kin?"  


"No. I'm her partner of thirteen years. We're FBI." He showed his ID. "She was wearing her badge."  


"Okay. We'll find all that. FBI will have the insurance information we need. Injury was on the job, right?"  


"Yes."  


"You're not the husband?"  


"No. No, we're not married." He looked at her name tag. "We're not married, Dorothy."  


Dorothy made eye contact, twitched her head at someone to her side and a man stepped into view.  


He thumbed through the papers in front of Dorothy. "Mr. . . . Lisbon?"  


"No. Jane. My name is Patrick Jane. I'm Lisbon's partner."  


"I'm the social worker on duty, Mr. Jane. Robert Stafford. You aren't the husband?"  


"No."  


"Not even common law?"  


"No! But there's no one else to help her!"  


"She has no living relatives?"  


"Brothers. She has brothers in Chicago."  


"You need to send for one as soon as possible. We'll take good care of her. Don't worry about that. But you have no authority to make the medical decisions that would be part of her ongoing care."  


"Ongoing."  


"Until she's discharged."  


Jane turned away. Without Lisbon's phone, he had no idea how to contact any of Lisbon's brothers. His throat constricted and the force of his emotion energized his body. He wanted to shout, scream, 'But she's my . . ." his what? Soulmate? As strong as their bond was, it carried no legal weight. Unspent energy and distress made him shake. He wanted to charge the entry to Trauma, howling, but he knew he couldn't. Security would be on him in a minute and toss him out. He had to keep it together for Teresa's sake. Lisbon would be furious to find he was thrown in jail or taken upstairs to the psychiatric ward. Besides, he had to be with her.  


Cho walked through the door, immediately alarmed at the state of his friend. Sweat was pouring down his red face and his mouth was opening and closing like a speared fish. He pulled on his hands and fingers. Jane was about to lose control and he didn't know how to stop himself.  


"Jane!" Good. His attention was focused on Cho now. "Come here and tell me what's going on."  


"Cho!" Gratefully, Jane rushed to him, so distressed he couldn't make sense, starting sentences, ending without finishing, starting in the middle of a thought and losing it as the next rush of emotion hit. So relieved to see his friend, to be diverted from the spiral he'd been caught in, he had no idea how much he needed support until he saw Cho.  


"How is she, Jane?"  


"Unconscious. Stable for now. They don't know the extent of injury yet. Or why she's unconscious. Look, Cho. We need to get one of her brothers out here. I have no medical authority over her."  


"Okay. No problem. We'll use what power we can to take care of that until someone gets here. You got their numbers?"  


Jane shook his head, feeling damnably stupid. But for Cho, it would be 'no problem.' He'd find a way to do it. In a normal frame of mind, he'd have little problem discovering the needed information. But his colleagues could manage it, and faster. right now  


"That's okay. It will be in her personnel file. I'll get Wiley on it."  


"Have him give them my number, okay?"  


"No problem." Cho stepped up to authorize the insurance, feeling very sad for Jane. He'd never seen his friend more helpless. "Hey, Jane."  


He looked at Cho's stoic face.  


"She's alive. She's gonna be all right."  


Cracking his first small smile in hours, Jane tilted his head to acknowledge Cho's attempt to comfort him. "Yeah. Thanks, Cho."  


"You bet. Now get yourself something to drink and sit down, cool off. You're pouring sweat. It's going to be okay." He got on the phone to Wiley, sliding insurance authorization to Dorothy.  


Deciding he needed something with sugar in it, Jane studied the grim choices in the machine and chose a soda. Then he joined a group of grim, worried people in the waiting room, some of them sweating like him. He took a corner seat away from them. He had no wish to socialize or commiserate with anyone.  


His own thoughts and fears sickened him. What if she didn't wake up, had severe brain damage? What if she d-? No. That wasn't going to happen. If she was still alive after lying unconscious in the dirt for who knows how long, the long ride to the hospital, she was going to live. That was final.  


His phone vibrated. "Jane."  


"Patrick Jane, FBI?"  


"Yes." Chicago accent. "Are you one of Lisbon's brothers?"  


"Yeah. Robert. Eldest son. What's happening with Teri?"  


"She's unconscious but stable. You know who I am?"  


"Oh, definitely. We all know about her partner, Patrick Jane. I know you were in love with each other for years. Rocky and rough for a long time. She told me you're together now."  


"Yes, we are. It's wonderful for us. She's a terrific woman. Redeemed my life by loving me, accepting me. Pushing me-hard-to be a better man. I owe her everything." He had to stop or he'd be blubbering on the phone."  


"That's great, Pat. I know you make her happy, too."  


"She's talked to you about us?"  


"A few times. None of us is great at keeping in touch. Listen. Enough chit-chat, huh? I'm at O'Hare. My flight for Austin leaves in ten minutes. I'll catch a cab to the hospital. That Wiley fella, he told me where."  


"It will be great to have you. I can't make any medical decisions for her."  


"Yeah. They told me. Don't worry. They'll do what's needed in Trauma and we'll take care of everything when I get there. Hold the fort."  


"I'll be here."  


"Save my number. Robert, okay? People call me Robby. I can't make 'em stop."  


"Okay, Robby. And . . . thanks."  


"Bye. Hang on, Pat. It's gonna be okay."  


"Bye. See you soon."  


He was surprised how much all the messages of support from family, their work family and now Lisbon's family, gave him some relief, made things easier to bear, even though they knew no more than he did about Lisbon's condition.  


Removing his jacket, he hung it on the chair next to him, lining out so that it could air and dry. Then he rolled up his sleeves. It felt good to cool down. Leaning back in the hard plastic seat, he rested his head against the wall. At first he struggled to stay awake in order to catch familiar doctors or nurses, but most wouldn't tell him anything. The one or two who did, just said, 'no change.' Finally, he let himself nap.  


_Teresa sat down in the chair next to him. "How ya holding up?" Her hand lightly rode the top of his thigh and she bent to peer at his face. He caught a length of her long raven hair and let it fall through his hand, the tips tickling as they fell away._  


_Wishing he had sniffed for her shampoo, he turned his eyes to hers. They seemed to look right through him, the green a little too bright. Did she see him? She smiled. The background shifted behind her, seeping glassy colors so saturated they should be dripping. Patrick didn't focus there. He wanted to see only Teresa._  


_"Robby's coming."_  


_"Good," she said in that sweet way of hers._  


_"Kiss me." She did but he couldn't feel it, only her warmth and scent, except it was apples._  


_"Wanna bite?"_  


_"Yeah."_  


_But she started to fade away. "I have to go."_  


_His heart sank, the feeling of loss weighing on him like lead. "No," he whispered, tears running down his cheeks. But she was already gone._  


Jane heard footsteps moving towards him, scraping to a stop at his chair.  


"You Patrick?"  


He straightened, stretched, yawned and opened his eyes. "Yes. You Robby?" Jesus! How long had he been asleep? His stiff limbs, kinked back and neck told him. He stood up, offered a hand and they shook.  


Robby was small in stature, with dark hair and green eyes, just like Teresa's. Looking at him was a bit disorienting as he was truly the masculine version to Lisbon's feminine. His green plaid shirt and comfortable jeans stopped at a pair of tan chukka boots.  


Jane couldn't help smiling at him. "It's amazing how you two favor each other."  


"Yeah. Get that a lot." He looked at Jane's drying cheeks. "Hey. You all right?"  


Lisbon would have said the same thing. Especially the soft 'Hey.' He wiped his cheeks dry. "Fine. Just had a crazy dream."  


"Must be an awfully hard time for you."  


There was something in his voice that conveyed real understanding. A layer of tension rolled away as Jane sighed. "Yes." He looked Robby in the eye. "You, too."  


Robby nodded, his eyes glistening, and set his rolling carry-on at the chair next to Jane. "I'll check on things, take care of some paperwork and see you in a few minutes."  


Cho and Fischer drifted in. Abbott followed shortly after with Wiley.  


"Lisbon's brother, Robby, is here. He's checking on things." Jane pointed to him.  


When Robby finished, introductions were made and he told them what he knew. He had a rapt audience. "Teri should have woken by now. They're not really sure why she hasn't. They can find no bruising or swelling on her brain. The force of the blast seems to have hit her in the back. That's good because if it was frontal, the internal damage would have killed her at the scene. They've diagnosed concussion for now. It's a pretty bad one, but she responds to stimulation of her extremities. No back or neck injuries."  


"Is it possible the force hit the back of her head so hard that she has a contra-coup injury?"  


"Well, yes." Robby looked at Jane, obviously impressed. "It's a possibility. But there's nothing on any scan to prove it, so . . . they're just saying it's some kind of explosive shock reaction. The vest she wore muffled a bit of the blast effect. Of course they hope she'll wake soon."  


"Is it a coma?" from Fischer.  


"No. Not coma. She's already shows sign she's coming around, but it will be slow and they're not sure what difficulties she'll have when she comes to."  


"Brain damage?"  


"No. No. Not the way you may be thinking. Very unlikely. But she may have severe headaches, be woozy, maybe forgetful for a while. Things that can follow any concussion."  


"What about her burn?"  


"Very localized. Pretty bad second degree, but it's a minor concern as long as there's no infection. What happened out there? How'd she get hurt?"  


Abbott spoke up. "We're still investigating that. The explosion was bad enough that it killed three other agents."  


"Oh. I'm sorry."  


"Yes. It's bad. Anyway, Agent Lisbon must have been walking out when the house exploded. She was in back. We don't know if it was set or just leaking gas lines or something."  


"And the burns on her hand?"  


"Agent Lisbon is believed to have attempted to reenter the house after the explosion, try to get the others out, but it was too far gone. Maybe had to pull some burning wood out of the way. As I say, we're still investigating and don't have all the answers. There are no witnesses, now, except Agent Lisbon."  


"Sounds like Teri. Trying to save someone."  


"Yes, it does," said Jane, softly. "Can I see her now?"  


"They're moving her out of trauma to ICU shortly, Pat. In the meantime, I think we need to get some things together so that you can take care of her like you want."  


Jane turned to the team. "They won't let a lot of visitors into ICU. You don't know how much it means to me, to Teresa, too, to have you, family, here. But please, go home and get some rest. I'll keep you posted."  


Last words were brief. Handshakes, hugs, grips on the shoulder conveyed most of what needed to be communicated. Jane felt no need to show his usual self-possession. He was hurting and they all new it and wanted to offer comfort and encouragement. He knew they shared some of his sadness and worry.  


Wiley could hardly speak, voice wavering and his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. "I'm, I'm glad she's going to be okay.  


Jane gripped both his shoulders and gave him an affectionate shake. "Thanks, Wiley."  


He wanted to go with them. No, just go after the shit fuck who had done this to Teresa. He'd find out and the creep better start praying. But, no. The days of running off crazy to solve the case himself, seek the revenge his angry heart craved, were over. Maybe there wasn't 'a guy.' Maybe it was an accident. His Teresa was the only thing that mattered. If she could only hear her thoughts in his head, leaving matters to the team and the rest of the FBI so he could see to her, be there for her . . . she wouldn't believe it! The feeling of her pride and love eased his mind.  


Robby used the team's visit to talk to Tommy and James, telling them they wouldn't need to come for now.  


When he and Jane were alone, Robby suggested they see what there was to eat in the cafeteria while they settled Lisbon in ICU. Both were very hungry.  


"This is the thing, Pat."  


They both stopped to gulp soup and stuff their mouths with crackers.  


"I talked to my lawyer on the flight and explained the situation, our situation. And your need to be able to make decisions for Teri until she can again. He'll send an email with papers making me her medical guardian and you'll be my proxy. The doctors will document her condition, etc. It has to go before a judge, but we can start. It'll give us both what we need until you two, well, do something permanent.  


"That sounds great, very well thought out." He looked at Robby. "And thoughtful. You know, Teresa and I talk about marriage a lot. We both want it. Just weren't in enough of a hurry, I guess. It sure would have made a difference tonight."  


By the time they'd finished eating, Lisbon was in ICU. Robby was still dragging his carry-on.  


"Let me take that to the car while you visit her. Go ahead. You can go first. I'll be waiting."  


"They'll probably only give us about five minutes."  


"I really want to be there when she wakes up."  


"Maybe things will work out." Robby turned the suitcase over to Jane and they separated for the moment.  


Robby was smiling when he returned from ICU. "I think she's going to wake up soon! She's moving a little bit, seems like she's trying to talk, her eyes are moving under the lids. I feel good about it, Pat. I don't think we're going to need the transfer of guardianship or proxy. When she wakes, she can sign you medical power of attorney."  


Jane stood excitedly at the door to the ICU, locating Lisbon's bed. He saw her, tubes and bags all around, her long hair spread across her pillow. He hurried to her bedside saddened by her tiny form in the big bed with all the dwarfing equipment around it. She looked so vulnerable.  


He took her uninjured hand and spoke her name, softly at first and then louder. He wanted to call her back to him. Her body moved, a weak struggle to get to him. She groaned and barely lifted her other hand.  


"Shhh. Shhh. I'm here Teresa. I know you know I'm here, now. Just relax and rest. You have a concussion but you're starting to wake up." Brushing the back of his fingers along her cheek, he bent and kissed her lips very lightly. "I love you."  


Her eyes moved furiously under their lids. She pressed her lips and made a puffing sound. Jane assumed she was trying to say his name.  


"Yes. It's me. Patrick. You have to rest now, darling. I'm going to leave and let you rest."  


She groaned at a higher pitch and seemed to try to shake her head.  


"All right. I'll stay right here until you fall asleep again, okay?"  


Teresa's whole body seemed to relax, melting into the mattress. Jane held her hand, smoothing it with his fingers or thumb, kissing her cheek, until her breathing became settled and regular.  


When he rejoined Robby, he plopped into the next chair. "I think you're right. She's trying to wake up." He looked at the man. Worn out. "We need to get you settled. You should stay at the house."  


"Be glad to, but we don't want to leave Teresa alone."  


"No. I'll get your carry-on from the car. Let me call a cab, give you the key, code for the security system. You can let yourself in and get comfortable in the guest room, make yourself at home. I should take you myself but, like you said, we can't leave Teresa alone."  


"You know, that sounds pretty good. I'll take you up on it. Get some rest if you can and I'll be back here when I get up. She'll want you when she wakes up, not me."  


"She'll want both of us. But I have to be there."  


"And so you should."


	3. Chapter 3

"Is there a place I can shower?"  


Initially, Dorothy's replacement, Suzanna, set her mouth stubbornly. But as she looked at the disheveled, worried man in front of her, the bureaucrat receded and the person who'd taken the job because she wanted to help people, relented. "The pool has showers in the dressing area." She checked her watch. "It's only five. It'll be open. But no one should be down there yet."  


"Thanks! You're very kind." He draped his jacket on an arm and hurried off.  


"Just don't tell anyone I sent you." The man hurried off. "And, be quick!"  


Jane had nothing to change into so he improvised, as he had many times in his life. He washed everything in the pump soap on the wall, his hair, even his shirt and boxers. At the last minute he added his socks to the wet, lathered wad that squished in his large hands. He rinsed and wrung them out tightly, putting on his boxers.  


In the quiet he could hear the rippling of the Olympic-sized pool. Laps. Just the thing to burn off tension so strong that it fizzled out of his pores like a weapons-grade poison. Ten should do it.  


The water reminded him of the Pacific at Hawaii. A cool enough start to know he was swimming and not soaking in a tepid tub, then a quick acclimation to the perfect temperature as his brain ceded to its pleasure centers.  


He started easy, on his back. Memory relaxed him as he sliced through the water, long sleek muscles falling into a powerful rhythm by instinct. Last night. The memories were vivid, so alive.  


_Showered and in their soft nightclothes, Teresa was stretching on the carpet and counting it as yoga. So delectable in the clingy material that outlined her form, defining her bouncing breasts and rocking hips, he couldn't resist her and pounced, tickling her. It was joyful, their mouths wide open with laughter. She was so soft and warm as his hands swept her body, wiggling fingers digging in. In her struggle, she was half disrobed and he took advantage._  


_Tickling turned easily to stroking, fondling, kissing. He pressed his aroused body all over her hips. Wrapping her legs at his back, she ground into him. He pushed her shirt up, kneading her breasts and squeezing the nipples before he put his greedy mouth on them. She squealed and started to drag his pants down, using her feet and hanging the elastic painfully on his erection._  


_"Wait, wait. Let me," he rasped. When he was exposed, butt in the air and balls itching to slap her, he rubbed her covered sex, wickedly snaking his hips to force her open, running his length along her clit._  


_"Uh-ooooooh! Shit!" Knees bent and feet hitting the floor, Teresa pushed her hips up and Patrick lifted himself away just enough for her to take her clothes to her knees. All their feet pedaled their pants down and kicked them away. Grabbing his ass with both hands, she guided his hips and he barreled into her, hot and ready for him. He didn't start thrusting right away but rooted inside, rubbing and probing until Teresa panted and rolled her head from side to side._  


_"Your knees. Get up on your knees, Patrick!"_  


_Oh, he liked this! She separated them so he could get into position. Anchoring her head and shoulders on the floor, she gripped his arms for leverage. Teresa raised her hips while he reconnected them. Then she hung on him, sliding on his rigid erection until he felt mindless and she was moaning like the possessed._  


_He held on for as long as he could, letting all of the delicious sensations she created wash over his entire body. Her legs suddenly gripped him tightly and she jutted her hips to seal her sex against him. Big and slick from her juices, he filled her as the hard spasms of her orgasm pulled him over the edge, dragging him by his swollen wet cock, gripping him like a teacher dragging a naughty schoolboy by the wrist._  


When he'd finished his laps, Jane wore the boxers and shirt damp, without his jacket. They would dry in no time. The socks would take a little more time, but he'd hang them on the chair and they'd dry quickly enough. Refreshed, he was a bit saddened by his memory of the night before and how close it had come to being their last time to make love.  


Sitting in the ICU waiting room, he positioned his jacket to air out some more in the chair on one side of him and the socks to dry on the back of the chair on the other side. Leaning back, he felt comfortable and settled.  


The double doors to the ICU opened. A nurse walked towards him and Jane stood up.  


"Are you Patrick?"  


"Patrick Jane. Yes?"  


"Come with me."  


Jane didn't know if his heart was sinking or soaring. All he knew was that it stuck in his throat. "Is anything wrong? Is Teresa okay?"  


"Yes. Yes. She's going to wake up very soon and she's calling for you."  


Jane threw on his jacket. As they got closer, Jane heard his name fall softly from Lisbon's lips and he broke into a canter, almost stumbling on the mangle of equipment wires at her bed. Catching himself, his hands fell softly on the mattress next to her just as she murmured his name again.  


"Yes. Teresa. It's me. I'm here." Lifting her limp hand, he kissed it and felt the little fingers curl on his palm. Her eyes were still closed.  


The nurse stepped up with a chair. "Sit," she commanded, moving it into place. "You need to stay with her."  


"I know. I will. Thank you so much for bringing me to her."  


"It's Ms. Lisbon I'm concerned about." She let herself crack a smile for this harried, handsome man, his beautiful eyes brimming with hope. "But you're obviously what she needs right now. So, you're welcome. Softly, now. Make it easy on her." She patted him on the shoulder and went to tend other patients.  


He tried to sort her tangled hair with his fingers, but it pulled too much. He kissed her face and forehead, her fingers, picked up her burned hand and carefully kissed that at the edges of the gauze. When he turned back to her face, her eyes were half open and woozy.  


"Patrick . . . ?"  


"Oh, Teresa, yes, it's me. I'm so happy to see you, honey."  


"You're kind of blurry."  


"Yes. It's wonderful, isn't it?"  


Teresa tried to smile, saying, "Silly old thing." Her fingers wiggled in his hand. "I want to touch your face."  


Placing her hand softly on his cheek made him want to cry and he put his own hand over hers, curling into what she surely meant as a caress.  


"Prickly."  


He rubbed his scruff against her palm and she tried to smile.  


"Tickly."  


"I always said you were a poet."  


"Kiss me."  


Tenderly, he drew her lips against his and held a kiss until he felt the tip of her tongue, a tiny bud of warmth.  


"Hey, sailor. Don't get fresh. You're barely conscious. I don't do girls like that." He gave her a peck. "I love you. My heart would have been broken if I'd lost you. I can't imagine living without you."  


She tried to shush him but the quiet sound was only a soft hiss. "I was dreaming about you the whole time."  


"I dreamed about you, too. It was the best part of my day." He pressed his cheek against hers.  


"Mmmmm, you smell like . . . antibacterial soap? The nurse tells me you've been a very nice boy."  


"Best behavior, I swear. I almost went crazy a few times, but I held it in. If they'd kicked me out of here, I don't know what I would have done."  


"Me, neither. Thank you."  


Her eyes seemed more focused now.  


"Robby is here." Jane pressed on her shoulder to keep her from trying to rise up and look for her brother. "He's not in the room right now, but he'll be here in a minute."  


"I didn't dream that? Oh, I'm so glad. I haven't seen him in so long."  


"He looks just like you. It's kinda creepy for me."  


"Yeah. We got that a lot, growing up."  


"Such a kind man, Teresa. He made me feel like a brother."  


"I'm so glad. You will be brothers soon."  


Jane squeezed her hand a little bit. "Very soon, I hope."  


"I'm sleepy now."  


"I know. But you're sounding clearer and clearer. You're going to be fine. Kiss me goodbye."  


Lisbon turned her head this time, just a little to catch his kiss. "Mmmmmmm. I love you, Patrick."  


"You're the best thing that could have happened to me. You saved me, Teresa. You gave me my life back."  


Her sleepy eyes were full of love. He knew she had no idea what to say. "Don't try to say anything. I just needed you to tell you." He continued quietly, "You deserve to hear it."  


He signaled to the nurse that he was leaving.  


"She's doing great, Nurse. Talking and moving a little. But she's sleepy now."  


"Very good, Ms. Lisbon! They'll be moving you to a room very soon."  


"Private room," Jane interjected.  


"Yes. The FBI always insists on that for agents injured in the line of duty. Someone will stand guard until you're discharged."  


When Jane reentered the waiting room, Robby was seated there.  


"Robby! I just finished talking with Teresa. She's doing great! Lucid, speech is clear. Her arms and legs are still weak, but she improves minute by minute."  


"That's great!" Robby moved past him to enter the ICU.  


"She wanted to sleep."  


"Then I'll look at her sleeping. I just need to see her."  


If anybody understood him, Jane did.  


Locating his earlier seat, all he saw was empty chairs. "My socks! My socks! Did you see them? I had them drying on the chair. Here."  


Robby couldn't fathom Jane's distress about a pair of socks. Looking down at his feet, he saw his bare ankles. "No. Haven't seen any."  


"Someone took my socks!" He looked under the chair and all around. He even asked the other waiters if they'd seen anything. Wide-eyed head-shaking all around. They were gone. "Teresa gave me those socks," he mourned.  


Robby saw the nurse signal him, a chart in hand. He pointed wordlessly to let Jane know he was stepping away. Jane shrugged and nodded, looking for his socks in the same places he'd already checked, even patting his jacket and pants pockets.  


Frustration became concern when Jane turned to catch the end of Robby's meeting with the nurse. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but something serious had happened. Robby approached him with pain in his eyes, shoulders bent as if he carried a heavy burden. Jane stood and waited for him to speak.  


"You're right. Teri's asleep. If you're okay to leave her for a little bit, I'd like to get a drink. I need to talk to you."  


"I can't leave her if something's gone terribly wrong. If she's in danger now."  


"No. Nothing like that. She's doing well."  


"I'd feel better if you told me here."  


"But I wouldn't." He waited.  


Jane saw there was no other way and that Robby was serious about talking to him privately. "I, I think there's a restaurant with a bar entrance nearby. About three blocks. Let's get to the car."


	4. Chapter 4

Jane was filled with dread. It seemed like an eternity until they were seated in the dim bar. Jane ordered bourbon, neat.  


Robby nodded. "Same. Only make mine a double."  


Jane let him get halfway through his drink before he cleared his throat and looked at the man expectantly.  


"Well, it's like this. The blast . . . Teri took quite a blow. She was bleeding when they examined her."  


"Bleeding? Where?"  


Robby took another swallow of his drink. "At first they thought she was having a period. But they found no, no . . ."  


"Oh. No. She wasn't having a period."  


"No. They figured that out. Especially when the blood tests came back."  


Jane felt the alcohol burn and churn in his stomach. "What, what did they show?"  


Robby looked closely at Jane. "She was pregnant, Patrick. She lost the baby."  


"What? No! She would have told me." A baby? Lost. His eyes filled with huge, hot tears that he struggled not to shed.  


"It was only a few weeks. She might not have known."  


Jane shook his head slowly, tears pouring down his cheeks. "No. No. Are they sure? Are they sure she lost it?"  


"Yes, they're sure. They examined . . . everything . . . closely."  


Thoughts swirling and crazy, Jane wondered for a moment if they could just put the baby back. Their child. Gone. Never to be known. No swollen belly for him to caress and talk to., the fruit of their lovemaking. Sobs that he tried to hold back squeaked out. "Does she know?"  


"No. They wanted to leave that up to me as next of kin. We can have the doctor tell her. But . . . Pat . . . it's your place, I think."  


Jane nodded, still sobbing, his attempts to muffle his grief a piteous sound.  


"It's a tough break. You can have-."  


"Another. I know. This one would have been so wanted. Teresa got off the pill a couple months ago so it could happen. If it would."  


"It will. I mean, it will again." He held up his glass and waited for Jane to lift his. "My new little niece or nephew. Barely here, my darling, but ever missed."  


Jane looked miserably at his own glass, then responded to Robby's toast. "My baby. My little son or daughter. We wanted to know you. And we mourn your loss." Crying so hard he couldn't drink, he held the shaking glass in his hand and settled it back on the table.  


Robby waited a few moments, staring at his glass to give his companion time to compose himself a little. "Drink to your child, our Patrick." Robby's voice was soft with sympathy.  


Jane brought the glass to his lips and sloshed the contents in, forcing himself to swallow. Robby shook his head and tossed his drink back, tears escaping the corners of his eyes.  


Jane couldn't manage to feel sorry at all for anyone but himself and Teresa just then. He heard but didn't register the endearment in Robby's gentle reminder for him to drink to his lost child. "I need to get back to Teresa. Thanks for telling me."  


Two somber men, sharing the burden of loss, left the bar and returned to the hospital.  


Teresa had been moved to a private room.  


"You want to go first, Pat?"  


"We can go together. I'll give you some privacy with her. After you leave, I'll, I'll talk to her and . . . and tell her."  


"Is everything okay?" Lisbon's bed held her in a fairly upright position.  


Robby had just left the room.  


"Hmmmmm?"  


"You seem like a couple of sad sacks. Did something go wrong since I saw you in ICU?"  


"Not in the way you're thinking. Are you all right? It looks like you have a headache."  


"I do. It was pounding earlier, but they've given me something for it. I may get some pretty bad ones for a while. This one made me throw up. I started to cry because I felt so bad. But mostly because I wanted you here to hold my head."  


"Oh, I feel bad about that. I would have loved to hold you and make you feel better. Robby had something important to tell me. He wanted to have a drink."  


Her brow wrinkled in worry. "Oh? It must have been bad if he couldn't tell you without a drink. Are he and Stephanie having problems? One of the kids sick?"  


"No. Nothing like that."  


Her eyes went wide. "Is it something bad about me? I'm feeling a little scared. Please, just tell me."  


"It's about us. More about you, I guess. But, well, Teresa, did you know you were pregnant?"  


She stared at him as if he'd sprouted two extra heads. "No. I wasn't. What do you mean?"  


"They discovered you were bleeding during examination in Trauma. They thought you might be having a period, but they didn't find a tampon or anything."  


"That's right. I wasn't having a period. I must have started while I was knocked out. I hurt, but I hurt everywhere."  


"No. The blood tests came back this morning."  


"I'm pregnant?" Trying to reconcile the shock of this news was a bit overwhelming.  


Jane took her hands in his, wanting to catch her before shock could turn to mistaken joy. "Were, baby. Were."  


The tears in his eyes showed the truth of what he was telling her.  


"But-? But, I never noticed anything, never felt different."  


"The baby was only a few weeks along. Too soon for you to notice, I guess." His voice was high and scratched, trying to soothe her through his own emotion. "Should I have waited? Should I not have told you?"  


Teresa's face dissolved into a mask of grief. And pity for Patrick. "No! You had to tell me. This is the right thing." She opened her arms and he pulled her close where she began to cry like a little girl, with everything that was in her. "I wanted our baby!"  


"Me, too. I'm so sorry."  


Choking through her sobs, she managed, "I'm sorry, too, Patrick."  


They held each other for a long time, Patrick climbing onto the bed to let her curl completely into him.  


Lisbon's nurse turned a blind eye to the blatant violation of hospital rules. At the shift change, she pointed out the sleeping couple to the next nurse. "That's the father of the baby she lost."  


The new nurse nodded, then made a soft rueful noise. "The poor things."  


Not long after, Robby peeked in to check how the couple fared, pulled a blanket over them and got a cab back to the house.  


Teresa woke with a roaring headache, burning sinuses and a tight throat. It was dark outside with no sign yet of dawn. Where the concussion started and the ravages of a draining cry ended, she couldn't tell. Her eyes felt like sandpaper against their lids, and she could open them only half way.  


Patrick's breathing sounded stuffy and when she looked down where he was snuggled at her breast, she could see his eyes were puffy. His hand cupped her breast. He squeezed it in his sleep as she gently petted his curly head until he stirred and opened his eyes.  


"Hey."  


He lifted his head to look at her. "Hey. It's dark. How are you feeling?"  


"Terrible headache. I had to call the nurse. I hope she'll let me go to the bathroom on my own."  


The nurse came quickly and gave Teresa her medication. "You really should get up, sir. Ms. Lisbon needs to rest comfortably alone."  


Teresa spoke up. "It's just that-."  


"I know, sweetie. And I understand if you don't want to be apart. I'm not ordering him out. I'm just saying . . ." She spoke softly and her eyes were kind when she looked at Jane. "There's a recliner next to the bed here. I'm told it's pretty comfortable." She turned to Lisbon. "Let me help you to the bathroom now."  


"I can't go alone?"  


"You're doing well, but no."  


"Can Patrick take me?"  


"No. I'm sorry. Liability issues. Come along now. We won't dawdle. Just sit and relax."  


Patrick got up to give them room and moved away, straightening his clothes. Teresa pulled a face for him as she was led away. He winked at her and smiled.  


Finishing the night in the recliner, Jane didn't sleep. He watched the dark and listened to Lisbon as she dreamed. When she tossed or whimpered, he held her hand and talked to her until she calmed.  


The doctor came through at five that morning to evaluate Teresa's progress. "Let's see you walk."  


Lisbon climbed out of bed and, taking a moment to fully wake up, showed herself to be sure-footed.  


"I'm very sorry for the loss of your baby, Ms. Lisbon. Any pain from the miscarriage?"  


"It's hard to tell because my whole abdomen is sore."  


He palpated her belly. It was soft, but tender to the touch. Making a note on her chart, he moved to another section. "Okay. It doesn't look like you're going to bleed very much at all. Nothing to be alarmed about. There's a lot of normal variability in that and you were only about three weeks along. How is the bleeding now?"  


"I don't know what it was like while I was out, but it seems like the end of a normal period now, except a little brighter red."  


"That's good. Healing on all fronts. Do you have someone to stay with you at home?"  


Jane raised his hand and smiled as Lisbon pointed to him.  


"Okay, then. We're going to release you this afternoon. How's that?"  


"Oh! Great!"  


"You'll need to take it very easy for a few days. You're confined to home. Don't go to work, grocery shop, nothing for three days. Build up to your regular routine slowly. You'll be on desk duty for two weeks after your return to work." He looked sternly at her. "I mean desk And I mean two weeks. I know cops don't like that, but no negotiations. If you tire, rest. Don't hesitate to call your doctor or come back here if anything at all doesn't seem right. You'll have a list of instructions and medications at check out. You're going to need something for headaches and pain for a while. Good luck!"  


"Wait. Doctor . . ." Teresa turned red. "What about . . ." She indicated Jane.  


"Sex?"  


Lisbon nodded and Jane paid close attention.  


"Not tonight. After that, nothing vaginally until, oh, uh, about forty-eight hours after you stop bleeding completely. Keep it gentle and easy. Build back to normal slowly. And don't try to get pregnant this month. Wait until after your next period and use a condom until then."  


They were smiling and relaxed when Robby came in.


	5. Chapter 5

Patrick left brother and sister alone after a few minutes and went to wash his face and rinse his mouth, cleaning the surface of his fuzzy teeth with a paper towel. He couldn't wait to have Teresa at home with him. And get a hot shower, brush his teeth for real. Remembering how Teresa had overcome her natural modesty and questioned the doctor about how soon she could have sex, he decided to shave the next few days, too. Be smooth as a baby's butt when he could finally get between her legs, everywhere, to assuage the appetite for sex that she'd developed over their months together. Smooth and soft, for her. Tomorrow night!  


Luckily, Robby had thought to bring his sister a change of clothes for going home since her others had been cut from her body. She was dressed and packing her few belongings into a plastic bag when he knocked and poked his head in.  


Patrick held a hand up. "How about some breakfast in the cafeteria, you two? My treat!"  


Jane listened to the siblings talk about their lives now, peppered with childhood memories. It was good to see Lisbon relaxed and enjoying her brother. Robby loved to make her laugh and she was an easy target for his tricks and jokes, giggling wildly as he grinned at her.  


"Aw, Sis, I miss you so much. I never have this much fun with anyone else."  


Lisbon took his hand and squeezed it. "Me, too, Robby. I miss you so much."  


"Maybe you'll bring Pat for a visit."  


"Yeah," said Jane, feeling the fondness of family as he sat with them. "I'd like that."  


"I'm going to spend tonight with you two. I have a flight out early in the morning, Teri."  


"Oh! Robby! You can't stay a little longer?" Teresa pouted.  


"I gotta get back to work. And the family misses me. You know, good ole dad." He leaned close to her. "I love you, sis. You're my mother and my sister and my friend. I'll adore you forever." He held her face and planted a huge kiss on her cheek.  


Teresa's voice went high and soft as she tried to hold back her tears. "I love you, too, Robby." She wiped at her eyes.  


Self-conscious about her emotionality, she moved the conversation along. "Patrick, did you know Robby and Marlene have four kids?"  


Patrick gladly helped her change the subject, this sweet woman he loved so much. And, he was genuinely surprised at the size of Robby's family. "No! That's a nice size. Robust! Always a cuddle, there."  


"You bet, Pat. It's great!"  


"I want four, too." Teresa held her hand out to Patrick and he took it, kissing her fingers and noting the quick shadow that passed through her eyes.  


"We'll have to get started on that. Big or small, my family is with you, Teresa."  


"All right, you lovebirds." Robby's grin took over his face as his eyes twinkled brightly. Just like Teresa's were doing.  


Robby snapped his fingers. "Oh! Almost forgot! Medical power of attorney. The hospital has forms for it. I got two. One for you, Teri, and one for Pat." He pushed the forms to them. "You guys fill them out, designating each other, and sign. The nurse will make a copy of yours and put it in your chart, Teri. Make some more copies and give them to your doctors. Keep them on file. Neither of you will have this problem anymore. "  


Robby left the hospital when they left the cafeteria, saying, "No sense all of us cooling our heels waiting for check out. I'm going to cook supper tonight, so I need to do a little grocery shopping. I know what you've got at the house, so I'll pick up a few staples, too. Anything special you want?"  


They couldn't think of anything.  


"Okay. See you in a little while."  


Jane let Teresa have the recliner and he sat on her bed swinging his feet.  


"Jane. Where are your socks?"  


"Hmmmm? Oh. Teresa . . . I lost your socks."  


She looked at his bare ankles. "How does a person lose their socks?"  


He explained what happened. ". . . and someone took them. They're gone."  


"Awwww. I know you loved those socks." The understatement of the year. She managed not to roll her eyes. "I'll buy you some more. Ten pair more, if you want. You'll be rolling in socks and I'll pick them all especially for you." What an opportunity!  


"I just need the ones from Cannon River."  


"I'll order a pair of those, too. But you'll see. You'll love all the socks I pick for you. Because I picked them and I love you. And I care about your poor bare feet. Look at them. Just like I found you when you came out of exile." She looked at the rest of him. "In fact, all of you looks exactly the same."  


Suddenly guilty for her internal snark, she stood and took his hands. "Do you need it that way, Patrick? Do you need the socks and your clothes, your shoes, to be the same?"  


"I think maybe I did. My clothing was the only thing in my life that wasn't different, unfathomable. My clothes don't have to be the same anymore. I have what I need in all parts of my life now. Your socks meant so much to me when I didn't have that."  


Teresa started to object, but Jane smiled.  


"I mean when I thought I didn't have it."  


Lisbon relaxed.  


"They're all I really had of you for awhile. I cherished them because you gave them to me. I think I would love anything you choose for me. It still means a lot." His brow wrinkled and he looked at her with wary concern. "But my shoes . . . they're just comfortable and perfect for my feet."  


Teresa had her doubts but she didn't speak them. He did wear other shoes for particular occasions. And having got him to agree to this much, she didn't want to trigger his obstinacy.  


"We'll try it out, then. But we won't move too fast. And you have to help me so you get to wear what you like. Soon you'll get tired of me picking out your clothes."  


He kissed her. "Let's have fun with it."  


Lisbon’s energy drained during the ride home. "Oh, damn. My headache is coming back." Maybe it was the glare of the day and the traffic.  


"Your medication must be wearing off."  


"I skipped the last dose because I wasn't hurting then."  


"We're almost home. You can take it as soon as we walk in. Right away. That's great you're not needing it like before."  


Lisbon glanced at him doubtfully beneath the hand rubbing her forehead.  


"Then we'll get some dinner in you and pack you off to bed."  


"Snuggling with you as much as we want. I'm looking forward to that." She gave his thigh a few soft pats.  


"Me, too." Jane began to mentally organize for taking care of Teresa for the next few days. "I have to get some things from that big natural foods store across town. I'll do that before supper. So I'm yours whenever you want me after that."  


Jane got her settled onto the couch with a pillow and throw, awaiting her medication to take effect. Robby's cooking smelled wonderful. Probably had lots of experience with his little brood.  


The natural foods store had a huge department for natural remedies. He kept it simple, chose exactly what he was looking for and was back home in time to relax with Lisbon on the couch, a glass of wine in his hand and her legs elevated on his lap. The medication had kicked in and it made her a little drowsy. But her appetite was strong and kept her alert at the table.  


"Mmmmmm, Robby! You went for comfort food! Mom's recipe. This is so yummy, thank you. You're a good boy." She stuck her tongue completely out to shovel in a mouthful of scrumptious baked macaroni and cheese, rolling her eyes in pleasure, her cheeks puffed as she chewed. She cleared her palate with a bright asparagus spear, sautéed in butter and lemon, sprinkled afterwards with tiny bits of fresh tarragon left to wilt and release their flavor in asparagus heat.  


"That's my version of your version of Mom's recipe. I guess I did good if it's that close! Eat your salad, too, Sis. We have ice cream for dessert."  


"Mmmmm! Vanilla?"  


"Of course. I got a recommendation from a store employee. It's the store brand."  


"1905 Vanilla?"  


"Yeah, that sounds right. It had a number in it, like turn of the century."  


"It's the best!"  


Robby chimed in with her, apparently a childhood chant, "Better than all the rest!" They grinned broadly at each other.  


Jane was delighted to be quiet and watch the two enjoying each other's company, to see Teresa so loved by her brother. Feeling part of something warm and special, it occurred to him that it was family when people united in their love for another person.  


When Lisbon's eyes started to droop, Jane pulled her gently up from her chair. "Kiss Robby goodnight now and you can sleep with the nice full tummy he gave you."  


He delivered her to Robby's arms and watched him pull his treasured sister close. They gave each other a quick peck on the lips and then tucked their heads at each other's shoulders, held tight for several seconds and let go. Jane retrieved her and walked her into the bedroom, shutting the door.  


Lisbon had showered before dinner with Robby sitting outside the door in case things went wrong, but she did fine. Helping her into a baggy shirt, Jane tucked her into bed, giving her a long kiss. "Welcome home, sweetheart. I'm so glad you're okay and here with me. I'm going out to visit with Robby a little bit before I take a shower and then I'll be where I belong—next to you."  


He helped Robby clear up. They had a beer together and talked about small things for a while. Then Robby got up. "I need to turn in, Pat. Busy day traveling first thing in the morning."  


"I can't thank you enough, being here for Teresa and me. Everything you've done . . . it meant everything to her, and me, too."  


Jane reached a hand. Robby shook it and turned for the guest room.  


"Hey. Robby."  


The man turned to see Jane with his hands in his pockets, shrugged into himself and looking at his shoes.  


"I've never had a brother, Robby, but you made me feel . . ." He looked his new brother in the eyes. "You made me feel welcome. Right from the start. It mattered a lot."  


Robby smiled and approached him. "Well, in my family, brothers hug each other." He pulled Jane into a bear hug that Jane returned in kind. Letting go, he held Jane at the shoulders. "Send us the marriage announcement."  


"Ha, ha. You bet. Soon!"  


"Soon." Robby started to turn again.  


"Hey. I know you don't want to be reimbursed for the groceries, but I really want to treat your family to a meal. I can't be there, but will you cook them up something special, their favorites, and tell them it's from their Uncle Pat?" He held out a hand with three one-hundred dollar bills between his fingers.  


Robby looked at him for a long time, considering, and then a wide grin spread across his face. "Yeah. Yeah, Pat. I can do that. I'll send you and Teri the video." He took the bills. "That's great! We'll love it. Thanks."  


"And be sure to get some good beer to ice down special for yourself."  


"You got it!"  


Freshly showered, Patrick crawled into bed next to a sleeping Teresa and, turning to his side, pasted his body to hers. Crooking his head lightly at her shoulder, he inhaled her scent until his lungs were full. The fullness of her relaxed breasts filled his cupped hand. He was very careful not to disturb her, but he allowed himself two little Lisbon sighs a when he lightly thumbed each nipple once. After a long breath, he settled to sleep.  


Robby had arranged the airport shuttle for a pick up so that Patrick wouldn't have to leave Teresa alone to take him to catch his flight. Jane made him scrambled eggs and toast, which Robby declared the best he'd ever eaten. He tiptoed in to give his sleeping sister a kiss on the forehead. Then he and Patrick sat for more coffee and tea together and another bear hug at the door when the shuttle came.


	6. Chapter 6

Patrick made Teresa's breakfast when she got up.  


"I wish Robby had woken me up when he came in to say goodbye."  


"He knew you needed your sleep more."  


"No, I didn't. I needed him." She shrugged and he rubbed her back to console her.  


"Now I need you." She stood and began rubbing against him like a cat, touching him in places and ways she knew he couldn't resist. "How long has it been, Patrick?"  


He pinned her arms to her sides and kissed her with gentle heat. "Only a few days. Getting to ya?"  


"A little bit." She ran her tongue between his relaxed lips and he pulled back.  


"Uh-uh. It's too soon. Tonight. But I've got something special for you. When you're ready to sleep, tell me and I'll give it to you. For now, how about some cards?"  


"Cards."  


"Monopoly? Scrabble? Uno?"  


"Let's start simple. Uno."  


Apparently Uno was a blood sport in Lisbon's family, a life and death competition. She had the advantage over Jane from years of playing with her brothers. Uno was not a game played much on the carnie circuit. She smoked him until, half-dizzy from the whirling play, he surrendered and they stood up to stretch.  


"You're a shark, Agent Lisbon."  


"No whining from the LOSER!" She stuck out her butt and wagged it behind her mocking face.  


"And . . . you make my point." Sighing, he shook his head. "Cops."  


He gathered the cards and stuffed them into the box. When he looked up Lisbon had sat back down and was holding her head. "Unnnnnf. I'm getting a headache."  


"Here. Come with me to the couch." He helped her stretch out and went into the plastic bag he'd left on the counter, pulling out a tiny bottle. Sitting next to her, Jane daubed a little liquid from the bottle's small opening onto each of his forefingers. He set the bottle down and rubbed the oil on her temples. The next daubs went just under the mastoid bones near her ears. And the third set, he left on the pulse at the junctures of her wrist and thumb. "Just rest a minute."  


"It smells so good. I want to be a Victorian lady with a silk hanky so I can hold this to my nose."  


Jane chuckled. "You are relaxing now. I think you're starting to dream."  


Returning to the kitchen, Jane removed his other two purchases from the bag, each marked 'organic.' He emptied a jar of coconut oil into a bowl and stirred the solid mass, whipping until it was fluffy. The result was white as cotton. Then, he added orange blossom honey a spoonful at a time from a small jar until he was satisfied with the texture and the scent. The mixture was fluffy and inviting, the scent of orange blossoms and honey light and soothing. He tucked the mix into the fridge to maintain its body.  


Lisbon was humming gaily through her smile, her eyes closed.  


"How's your headache?"  


"It's eased way back. And this pleasant smell is distracting me from the rest." She opened her eyes. "Where did you learn this stuff?"  


"Oh, we used a lot of herbal and home remedies on the circuit. Couldn't always get to a doctor and a lot of the traditional medicines worked. This headache remedy is a favorite of mine, too. But if you need your medicine, Lisbon, you take it."  


"I will. I think I want to rest now." She snuggled into the couch and pulled the throw up to her chin.  


Jane let her tuck herself in and checked about ten minutes later. She was asleep. A sandwich and chunks of fresh pineapple made her late lunch. Lisbon showered and went to rest in bed. Jane showered while she slept, shaving afterwards. Then, leaving a note on her pillow, he left her sleeping to pick up some cartons of fresh soup and soft bread for supper. They ate to quiet music and then Lisbon climbed in his lap, wrapping her arms around his chest.  


He rubbed her back, holding her close and nuzzling her hair. "What's this for?"  


"You're taking such good care of me. I love it. Are you going to make love to me tonight?"  


"Yes, but not right away. Go brush your teeth, take your clothes off and I'll meet you in bed afterwards." When he heard her settle in, Jane got the bowl of coconut oil and honey to take to Lisbon.  


"Move to the middle of the bed so I can sit. And lie on your back to start."  


"To start? The doctor said nothing strenuous."  


"We won't be breaking that rule. Just relax."  


Starting with her hands and arms, he lightly coated her skin with the massage oil he'd mixed. It warmed and melted with her body heat, soaking into the skin and releasing its sweet, clean scent. The pressure he applied to her sleek muscles was easy but insistent. When he'd finished massaging her fingers, she sighed.  


Jane's voice was husky. "It feels so good to do this, to touch you like this. And you smell sweet enough to lick."  


"Lick me."  


"Not yet."  


"Then take your clothes off, Patrick. If I'm naked and you're going to make love to me, then I want you naked, too."  


Jane snickered and shook his head, but started unbuttoning his shirt.  


"What?"  


"My sweet little seductress . . . you have developed a driving venality."  


Now Lisbon snickered, a wicked look in her eyes. "If I have, it's _your_ fault, my wicked little seducer."  


Jane undid his pants and caught her gaze. "We do bring the heat . . ." Both their faces were flushed with desire. "Dial it down, Teresa, my love, and let me do a little something to help you heal up." A pointed index finger stopped her saucy retort and she lay back to watch Patrick undress.  


Slipping quickly out of his clothes, he resumed his ministrations, enjoying her skin on his erection whenever they touched.  


The long smooth muscles of her legs rippled under his hand as he massaged them from ankle to hip, elevating each on his shoulder by turn and rubbing always toward her heart. It relaxed and refreshed her at the same time, the glow of the increased circulation lighting her skin a soft pink under the gold of the late afternoon light that drifted through the windows. He carefully avoided her feet and her pelvis and lifted her body to turn her to her stomach by his own power, shushing her when she tried to assist.  


There were discolorations on her back, strange bruising patterns from the blast. It saddened him, but he said nothing, only skimming oil into her skin in those places. He did her neck, slipping his fingers underneath to work the front, her collarbones and the meaty places of her shoulders. These he squeezed with tender but relentless pressure until the tension suddenly melted in his hands. "There you go. That's my girl," he whispered as she moaned.  


He massaged the deep places of her waist and the tops of her hips, caressing each globe of her bottom with both hands like a sweet melon. Squeezing each by turn, thumbs pressed from inside the cleft, he held the pressure until she released a low groan and her breathing shifted shallow. When he massaged the oil deep between her cheeks, letting his fingertips swirl the little ridges in the bud of her ass, she never even twitched.  


The sensitive fleshy triangle at the juncture of her tail bone and her fanny, he saved for last, circling in with a deep pressure. Her initially soft mewling turned to a low rhythmic call but right before she would start to writhe her hips, Jane released the pressure and caressed the skin with his fingers. He took his hand away.  


"Are you all right, Teresa?"  


"The skin there feels numb, but my body is buzzing everywhere down there. I need you, Patrick. I know you'll take the buzzing away."  


"I will, and very soon. I'm going to do your feet now."  


"Be careful with those crazy spots or the massage is over and I'll go cavewoman on your ass."  


In response he pushed his face deep into the flesh of her bottom and gave each globe a smacking kiss, then continued with his massage.  


Her desire fired something deep in his own core and he panted as he lifted her foot. His mind drifted with the warm cloud of honey and orange blossom that drew out the scent of her skin, of her arousal as he touched and moved her body. He was careful with the 'crazy spots' in the meaty balls of her feet, but lightly massaged them to let her know they were real and the power he wielded over her with them.  


"Remember, don't help me. I'm turning you onto your back again so I can get to those plump boobs and that fat clit of yours."  


"Ooooohhh, good!" When he talked like that, she knew he wanted her badly.  


Scooping a little of the remaining oil, he massaged her breasts, bending to kiss them and tantalize the nipples as he finished each one. He oiled the creases under them and then each armpit. "I'm just going to put some oil on your belly. I don't want to put pressure on it."  


Skimming oil on her abdomen and into her navel, he gently pulled her legs open to oil the creases there. Her moisture, tinged slightly pink, glistened at the mouth of her sex. "Tell me if this makes anything hurt, Teresa."  


"It doesn't hurt. It feels wonderful, Patrick. I love how you touch me. I want more."  


"Easy. Easy," he cautioned softly. "Just let me do it this time, okay?"  


The way she responded to his fingers massaging her female flesh, he knew she was not far from orgasm. Setting the bowl of oil on her nightstand, Patrick lay next to her on his side, propped on an elbow, allowing his other hand free to stimulate her. He used his mouth to toy with the closest nipple when he wasn't kissing her. His erection brushed her hip as he moved, making him tingle with desire.  


He made slow circles around her clit with two fingers telling her how sexy she felt under his hand until she was breathless. Soon he crouched on his knees, restraining her hips to keep them from bucking up as they pulled from her control. Suddenly, he felt her hand around his shaft. He let her hold him but stilled her hand whenever she tried to fondle or pump him.  


"Pay attention to here, where my fingers touch you, Teresa. What am I doing to you?"  


"I'm-, I'm-." The pitch of her voice rose with the approaching climax.  


"Just let it roll through you like a wave, a big wave of pleasure." He pressed on the little organ until she released, pushing back rhythmically on his fingertips as the spasms took her, waves pushing through, over and over. Gently, he held her hips and kissed the mons of her sex until the orgasm had passed. Her hand was still on him.  


"Give me some of that oil. I want it on my hand while I touch you here."  


"I'll be okay."  


"I won't. I want to see you when I make you come."  


Reaching to the nightstand, he transferred a generous dollop to her hand and used what was still on his fingers to oil her face and massage her brow. It all stopped when she started to work his cock.  


The oil, the scent, the pull of her hand drawing him out felt like a conjuring. He pumped slowly through her oily fist and groaned, muffled because he held his teeth clamped on his bottom lip. He wanted-, he wanted . . .  


"Ohhhhh, please, put some on my balls. Hold them in your hand and oil them. Make me smell like honey and orange blossoms, too." Even his speech flowed in the rhythm of his hips as she held him, then dropped her hand lower to caress where he'd asked.  


She loved to handle that delicate part of his body. It always made him go still, his legs falling open for her, his breath a moaning gale as he approached orgasm. Every sensation was right there because moving would distribute it away. If he spoke, it was as if in a delirium. Taking his shaft again and running her fingers back and forth across the head made him gasp, the gale held in his lungs until it flowed out as a long special cry, anguish and relief together, when he came.  


Teresa's fingertips touched the warm living stream he had left on her belly and chest. It glistened as it cooled in the failing light. She looked at his softening flesh and thought how the second of her babies was in Patrick's body right now. When she looked up, his eyes twinkled as he smiled at her, then dropped his head to kiss her, briefly poking the tip of his tongue between her lips.  


"Let's get you cleaned up." He started to get up for a cloth.  


"No, stay. I need to get up anyway. Just relax. And, and thank you for making me feel so good, in every way there is. I love you."  


"I love you, too." He winked. "You sure know how to show a fella a good time."  


She squeezed his cheeks and popped a kiss. "You rogue," she teased before she let him go, and got off the bed.  


The next day, Lisbon managed to sneak two calls to work almost without Jane's knowledge. Cho gave her bland answers empty of information. Fischer was more direct and refused to talk work or cases with her. She tossed her phone loudly on the table in the kitchen while Jane smirked behind his teacup in the armchair. "You don't have to hide it from me, you know. I know you can't resist having your hand in."  


"You told them not to tell me anything!"  


"Why would they listen to me? I only told them what the doctor ordered. Three days away from work. I don't control them . . ."  


Lisbon's face scrunched with pique, an unpleasant flash in eyes that attempted to bore into his. But he was impervious.  


". . . Or you, Agent Lisbon."  


She cocked her head and folded her arms, not convinced.  


"So how's about you get the stink-eye offa me, girlie?" His cinema gangster drawl.  


Trying to maintain a straight face, Teresa's cheeks puffed out. The air escaping her closed lips made a rude noise before she started to laugh. She tried her cinema moll. "Okay, Slats. But I'm watching you." Playfully, she pointed two fingers from her eyes to his.  


"Come here, Teresa." He patted his lap.  


She snuggled into him and then turned her face up expectantly.  


"I want to do this for us. For me. And for you." Holding up his left hand, he removed the ring from his finger, set it on the end table at the arm of the chair and slid it away. Then, he offered his hand and she held it with both of hers, bending his fingers and looking at the deep white indentation where the ring had been for so many years.  


Silent, she plopped her head against his chest and pulled his arms around her. He rubbed her arm and tucked his chin on top of her head.  


In a moment, her voice soft, he heard, "Thank you."  


He squeezed her a little tighter and they just rested a while.  


They made the day a leisurely one and made love before sleeping much as they had the night before. It was no less satisfying for being repetitive due to that rarity. Their bodies longed for one another and, after a point, the ecstatic trip to orgasm cancelled out any thoughts of a well-worn trail. It was like seconds on comfort food. Always satisfying, always pleasurable. Known.  


When he was jostled awake the next morning, Jane was in the middle of the bed, lying on his side, facing Lisbon. She was wide awake, grinning into his face. She held onto his shoulders, feet planted at the tops of his thighs, crouched against him and bouncing like a naughty monkey on the trunk of a palm tree.  


His voice wavered with her movement when he tried to talk. "Lisbon. I thought we were going to sleep in. Or have you got cabin fever?"  


"Yes! I want to do something!" She moved her feet to his hip bones.  


"I think you should call the Pope and report the miracle of your healing." He looked down to see her naked nethers bumping his belly, breasts squashing and unsquashing against his chest.  


"I feel good. Rested. Ready for anything." She kissed him and waited for his reaction.  


"Any what thing?"  


Laughing, she moved her feet further up, wedging her heels at the bottom of his rib cage, her scent reaching him. She exerted too much pressure there, but his erection was immediate. Cupping her bottom in his hands let him restrain her a bit and also rub his hands all over it. She was making a moist patch on his skin.  


"Let me see what you're pressing on me."  


She leaned back a little to give him a line of sight. "It's kissing you. I wish I could rub it all over you, but I'm not that limber."  


He arched an eyebrow. "You're doing all right." The thought of that hot, wet piece of flesh rubbing his stomach made his spine curl, eyes rolling into his head for a moment.  


Slowly, he pulled her knees open and peered between them. "Oh! I like that part a lot!"  


She chuckled and bumped him a couple more times.  


"Oh! What it does to that thing when you flex is obscene!" He wanted in there! All that pink intricate design contrasted to the smooth curves of her bending legs, the globes of her breasts, to the rounded flesh he held in his hands.  


"Is it gross?"  


He glanced at her slyly from narrowed eyes. "I don't know. Do it some more and let me see."  


She bumped him some more. "I think it wants you."  


"Well, it can't have me until tomorrow."  


"The bleeding's over. Put on a condom."  


"The doctor said 48 hours after."  


"Yeah, but he said it like he was waiting for a number to come up on the Magic Eight Ball." She lowered her voice and croaked out an imitation of the doctor. 'Nothing vaginally for about oh, uh . . . um, forty-eight hours.'"  


"Maybe it was an estimate . . . but that's what he said."  


"He probably didn't think we'd follow it, anyway."  


She'd squashed her pussy against him so many times the excitement of touching him that way sought its own satisfaction. The head of his cock kept brushing between her cheeks. He made her tingle there and that made her want to fuck! He had to want her, too! Maybe Patrick could be convinced. She wanted to feel him filling her and moving inside, shoving through what she bumped against him now, balls brushing her low. She groaned, and it was all frustration. "You don't have to put it in me all the way. Just stick it in a little."  


"What are you, sixteen?"  


Teresa's bottom was bumping the head of his penis with cushiony regularity, the cheeks open and swallowing it as she moved. It made him more and more desperate to get in her. He didn't know if she would be game for what he had in mind. "Lean back and get me a condom and the massage oil. It's still on your nightstand."  


Patrick did what he could to make it easy for her and she managed. Trembling with excitement, he scooped a small daub of the coconut oil mixture onto his fingertip and laid it at the bud nestled deep between her fanny cheeks, sliding his finger over the opening.  


She stopped moving and looked at him. "There? Now?"  


"Only if you want. Just my finger for now. You can decide if you want more."  


"I've never had more."  


"I know. Do you want to try it?"  


"Maybe."  
"It's the only place you're going to be penetrated, tonight."  


"Oh. You don't want to take a chance the regular way. Or is it a little extortion to get what you want?"  


"Hey!"  


Teresa was a little surprised at his red face and the irritation in his voice.  


"You know that's a tender spot with us! And it's not true! I don't spend my time plotting and planning how to get into your tender little butt. If you don't want it, just say so."  


Teresa was quiet, pulling a little closer into his embrace.  


Patrick took a long deep breath and then kissed her. "I don't like taking chances with you. You're too precious to me. "  


"I want it." Her eyes were dewy when she kissed him, not playful then.  


The warmth and softness of her mouth claimed him, and he set her gently on her back, his oily finger enticing her as he returned her kisses.  


She relaxed into the sensations he created there and soon he had a finger buried inside, working her gently. "Do you like what I'm doing, Teresa?" He liked doing it! He panted to be inside her.  


"It feels good. But I still want you to fuck me."  


"I can't do that. Just tell me if you want more, back here. I'm ready for you. I will be very gentle and you can stop me any time."  


She could hear his desire, feel the rigidly poking erection that rocked against her body, what his finger was doing inside her. He nestled his face into her breasts to root and suck. Desire conquered her weakening fear. He would never hurt her body. "What do I do? I want you in me, Patrick."  


Putting on the condom, he slathered them both with oil. He positioned her, knees curled over her belly until he was lodged, her bottom lifted. Working with the natural resistance of her body, he slid in a little at a time as she relaxed, opening her bent knees to an angle easier on her stomach.  


Everything he did was slow and easy, moving them to climax. He brought her hand down, kissed her fingers and laid them on her open vulva, tucking his hands at the top of her shoulders to hold her in place. Rubbing herself, she moaned as he moved carefully inside, the pressure and rippling texture of the narrow space bringing him to the edge.  


He was going to lose it, any second. "I'm going to . . . come . . . very soon. You feel so good . . . in here."  


Pleasure sounded in her deep sighs as they grew shorter and higher in pitch. "Really hard. Hot . . . warms me." Her busy fingers made her surge into orgasm. "Oh, aaahh! Let go . . . coming."  


His breath caught as he surrendered, pulsing inside her.


	7. Chapter 7

Results from crime scene investigation showed the explosion had been accidental. They could find no signs of a perp or tampering. Apparently it had been deserted for years and no one had thought to shut off the propane at the tank outside. The news relaxed the whole Austin branch although nothing could alter the loss of three capable agents.  


Lisbon had been back to work for a couple weeks, returned to the happy rhythm of her life with Jane. It was exciting to think they would be able to stop using condoms soon. Her lost pregnancy, though sad, reminded her that she could get pregnant, a stirring and hopeful image. Somehow, it brought a whole new level of excitement to thoughts of making 'bare-naked' love with Patrick again.  


The first night they could make love normally, Patrick came home with a bouquet of deep red roses. Their hypnotic fragrance immediately filled the space between them. The blossoms were huge, the glistening petals thick as flesh and glowing with the oils of their kind. Lisbon walked to him, a kitchen towel in her hand, wearing a delighted open smile. She waited.  


He placed the roses in her arms, the lush waxy paper rattling in that special way, and stood quietly as she let them invade her senses, touching them with gentle fingers. Then, going to one knee and watching her green eyes go moist and dark, he proposed. She said yes immediately and threw herself into his arms, crushing the roses between them.  


Saturday they had a date. They rose excitedly, grabbed a drive-thru breakfast and headed for the jewelry district, not huge in Austin but there if you knew where to look.  


Jane could tell that Lisbon was looking for something specific so he patiently stood at her side while she discarded tray after tray wherever they went. Finally, just before hunger would force them to break off for a late lunch, she found it in a small shop that dealt with fine jewelry from the 1930's and earlier.  


"Patrick! It's a set! It has my wedding band, and yours, too! They're in our sizes!" She put a heavy ring onto his palm. "What do you think?"  


The set was from the 1920's, very muted art nouveau in style. The band was not too wide, deep yellow gold, the surface a sort of rolling teardrop pattern slightly raised all around and the crevices darkened. The effect was understated, but voluptuous.  


He put it on his finger. It rode the knuckle a little tightly, but slid right into the indentation still present from his old ring. It looked like it had always been there. He shook his hand to confirm that it would not fall off and flexed to be sure the ring would not be too tight.  


"It feels good. I've always been partial to a plain band. But this is quite beautiful, Teresa. I'd be proud to wear it." He smiled warmly into her excited eyes.  


She clasped her hands together and did a happy wiggle, then turned to the tray to try her rings on. They slipped on easily. She did the same tests as Patrick had and was satisfied they would not slide off. The rings looked beautiful on her finger.  


When he saw the light in her delighted eyes, Jane lifted her hand and kissed them. "The opal is beautiful. There's so much fire in it and the other colors are bright, dazzling when they shift."  


Teresa couldn't take her eyes from it. The stone was round and fairly large, but tasteful to her small fingers and the design of the gold mimicked the wedding bands.  


"Oh, yes. It's like my dreams. I kept seeing colors like this when I was trying to wake up in the hospital. When I dreamt of you."  


Patrick pulled her into a close embrace for a long kiss. His body tingled. "I did, too. All these colors were behind you in my dream."  


"We'll take this set," he said quietly over her shoulder to the smiling jeweler.  


Patrick slipped the wedding ring from her finger and his own, handing them to the jeweler to be boxed. "She'll wear the engagement ring." When she wasn't admiring it herself, she held out her hand for Patrick to admire the ring, making the opal flash. Her happiness warmed his heart, even after days of it with everyone she knew.  


They never talked about the cost.  


Ten days later, on a Tuesday, they married in front of a Justice of the Peace at the Travis County courthouse. Lisbon was not willing to wait for a church wedding, nor put Patrick through the hurdles it would take for him to convert and marry in the Catholic Church. It would be a false conversion, and that was a grievous mortal sin. For her, also, since she knew it.  


She was married in the white dress Jane had bought her for the Blue Bird Lodge. Cho and Fischer stood for them and Fischer took the video. On the steps of the courthouse, Lisbon threw her bouquet of white gardenia to Kim who joined Cho in throwing assorted flower petals on the newlyweds.  


They spent that night and the next three days in the gorgeous Yellow Rose Bridal Suite at The Driskill in downtown Austin. Jane explained to Lisbon why he had chosen that suite. He reminded her of the band he had secured for the art sting caper, the song they played and that it was one of many violets he had tried to scatter for her when he couldn't speak. He softly sang The Yellow Rose of Texas while he held her in her arms and swayed with her. She cried and they made the most delicate love she had ever experienced.  


The hotel was their playground. They used room service a few times, especially deep in the night to reenergize. But the restaurants and bar enticed them out of their room at least twice a day, especially in the evenings when the Driskill Grill had live acoustic music. They christened most parts of the suite and continued the honeymoon into the weekend at home.

A few weeks later, Lisbon came home to Jane frying chicken, loading the last pieces onto a pile on the platter that he lowered safely into the oven. Mashed potatoes and fresh green beans with onion and bacon sat in covered pots, staying warm on the back burners. He finished a cream gravy, loaded with cracked pepper and set it aside. Lisbon's mouth watered and she came over to sniff every pot, cooing and humming like a besotted lover. She opened the oven to a balmy fried chicken breeze.  


"God. Whatever has gotten into you, I promise I'll never call an exorcist." She caught his cheeks and turned him for a kiss. "I hope you like roly-poly women."  


"I love round women, especially if they're round with babies."  


"That's good to know because if you get your wish, I'll be very round, very soon."  


"Our wish, Lisbon."  


"So, Patrick . . . what's the occasion?"  


"DVD on the coffee table."  


"It's a package from Robby!" She opened it and slid the slim case out. The disc was marked 'Dinner Festival from Uncle Pat' and a date. A stickie attached said, 'I wanted you to have a hard copy. Thank you, Uncle Pat!'  


"What's this?"  


"I wanted to thank Robby for everything. So I asked him to cook up all the family's favorites, get some great beer for himself and have a feast on us. He said he'd send us the video. I expected an email but he wanted us to have something permanent, I guess."  


"Oh, that was so sweet, Patrick! I can't wait to see it."  


"Get out the TV tables. We're eating on the couch, watching television tonight! We'll join them in a big, home-cooked meal."  


Lisbon kicked off her shoes and fairly danced, doing her assigned task. They loaded their plates, poured Jane's special sweet iced tea (made with simple syrup) and sat down. Jane started the video.  


The picture was widescreen and high definition, giving a good view. The opening scene was the dining room table, a long shot of bowls and plates, laden with food and six place settings. Each Lisbon entered the frame one-by-one, starting with the youngest, a three-year old. Then followed a boy of seven, a girl of nine and the oldest, a girl of twelve.  


The little boy stood on his chair and waved. "Hi, Auntie Teri! Hi, Uncle Pat! I'm Joel!"  


A woman's voice off-camera stage-whispered, "Joel! I told you not to stand on that chair. Sit down!" Giggling was heard in the background. Then, as part of the official record, "He's so headstrong."  


Each of the children followed a similar script. Then Robby danced his wife into the scene. "And here's my lovely Marlene, the most wonderful wife and mother in the world!"  


"Robby, stop!" Marlene talked to the camera, smiling broadly. "He's incorrigible! Hello, Teresa. Nice to meet you, Patrick."  


Robby gooned for the camera. "And you know me!" He proceeded to name the dishes on the table, then showed bottles of beer iced in a little galvanized tub. "The best brewery in Chicago. And their best beer."  


"Goose Island," Lisbon prophesied.  


"Goose Island Brewery. Night Stalker, the darkest, tastiest stout you'll ever sip. And, Illinois Imperial IPA. The cream on the head looks like dirt and wakes up taste buds you never knew you had!" He held the bottles up for the camera.  


"The kids are drinking their favorite pop." They held up their small clear bottles. "White Rock!" they shouted. "Yum!"  


"Only bottles for this feast! No cans. And never for beer."  


The family quieted and said grace. Lisbon joined them and Jane simply waited politely.  


As Patrick and Teresa listened to the Lisbon family conversation over their special dinner, they ate, too, laughing and pointing out the antics caught for posterity.  


Marlene and Robby anticipated and curbed any truly outrageous behavior, but eschewed teatime manners for good-natured jostling, joking and sneaky fingers stealing food from each others' plates. The seven-year-old tattled constantly while the twelve-year old rolled her eyes. The nine-year-old filled her mouth with food and stuck her tongue out for the seven-year-old who collapsed in a fit of giggles and then told on his sister when he recovered. The two youngest held a fine belching contest. The twelve year old pleaded, "Mom . . . Dad, make them stop! It's so embarrassing."  


The end result was a tableful of mostly empty dishes overseen by kids with greasy fingers and smeared faces, crumbs and bits of dinner stuck everywhere and scattered on the table.  


"Good God, Lisbons! Use your napkins!" Robby looked into the camera and said, "They're heathens!" The kids just giggled and wiped their faces.  


Marlene walked in from the kitchen with a canister of homemade ice cream.  


"Tistashio?" called the youngest.  


"Spumoni?" called the nine-year old.  


"Hush," said their mother, "and pass me your bowls." When everyone had started to obey, Marlene continued. "Tonight we have Daddy's special ice cream. Pistachio with fresh black cherries!"  


Robby stood up and bowed while the kids cheered. At the end of their dessert, the family lined up, cramming together in front of the table. "Thank you, Uncle Pat! Thank you Auntie Teri! We love you!" They all blew kisses to the camera and waved until Robby pointed the remote and the video ended.  


Lisbon sniffled over her mashed potatoes and gravy. When Jane turned to her, his eyes were glistening. "That was the greatest video I've ever seen, Teresa. What a beautiful family. You raised that man."  


"Yeah. Halfway. He's a great guy."  


Jane got up. "Seconds?"  


"Yes!"  


They raced to the kitchen and loaded their plates again. When they'd finished eating, each sprawled on opposite ends of the couch, heads on the sofa arms, legs hanging off the front, they unzipped their pants and groaned at the same time.  


"There's raspberry sorbet for dessert," Jane ventured.  


"Maybe in a few days."  


There was no thought of sex that night. But they beached themselves on their backs in bed, propped on extra pillows, talking until they could get comfortable enough to sleep.  


"Teresa?"  


"Hmmmm?"  


"I want four kids, too."  


"We'll get as close as we can. You sentimental old bear."  


They drifted away smiling, hand in hand.  


Deep and warm in Lisbon's body, in its cozy bed, a blastocyst divided one more time and became an embryo. When Lisbon felt nauseous the next morning, she thought it was from eating too much supper.


End file.
